


broken in body (and in heart)

by damipussycomplex



Series: noncontober 2020 [18]
Category: Batman - All Media Types, DCU, Super Sons (Comics), Superman - All Media Types
Genre: Blood and Injury, Branding, Broken Bones, Bruises, Choking, Dissociation, Kidnapping, M/M, Noncontober 2020, Roof Sex, Trans Damian Wayne, Trans Male Character, Underage Rape/Non-con, Vaginal Sex, aged up!jon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-29
Updated: 2020-10-29
Packaged: 2021-03-08 23:35:50
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,381
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27084967
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/damipussycomplex/pseuds/damipussycomplex
Summary: Jon will doanythingto make Damian his, no matter what the consequences may be.
Relationships: Jonathan Kent/Damian Wayne
Series: noncontober 2020 [18]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1951705
Comments: 8
Kudos: 108





	broken in body (and in heart)

**Author's Note:**

> written for day 18 of noncontober: blood and bruises.

Damian doesn’t come quietly. He shouts and screeches as Jon takes him from his bed in the night, careful as he can be as he carries Damian out the window, and Jon has to cover his mouth with one hand and put up with Damian trying to bite him as he flies all the way to Metropolis using his superspeed, then slows down as he reaches a rooftop.

He tries to lower Damian onto it gently, but as soon as his feet touch the ground, Damian’s pushing him away – Jon lets him – and nearly stumbling backwards over his own feet in his attempt to put some space between them. “What the hell is _wrong_ with you?” Damian whisper-yells at him, and Jon just shrugs, knowing that no one will hear Damian raising his voice, whether that’s in the form of shouting – _or_ screaming or crying.

“Nothing’s wrong with me, D,” he says, coming down to the ground himself and reaching for Damian, who smacks his hand away when Jon tries to touch him. “I just wanted to talk to you for a little while we have _some_ privacy.” None of Damian’s family have let Jon anywhere near him since the last two times Jon took him, but it’s not like Damian has made the effort to come and see him anyway.

Damian’s nostrils flare as he scowls at Jon, crossing his arms, and _Rao_ , Jon has missed him _so much_ , even his little scowls and glares and threats to use Kryptonite on him. “I was taught not to speak to _strangers_ ,” Damian spits at him, and Jon frowns.

“But I’m not a stranger,” Jon laughs, and hovers a few inches above the ground again to fly in small circles around Damian, who doesn’t miss a beat, turning so he can keep his narrowed eyes on Jon. “It’s me, Jon,” he says, finally landing in front of Damian again. “You know, your _best friend?_ ”

Damian’s scowl somehow manages to deepen. “You’re _not_ my best friend, and you’re not _my_ Jon,” he says, and Jon can’t fight back his giddy smile or the laughter bubbling in his throat. Damian glares at him, and he doesn’t say anything but Jon knows that he wants to ask why he’s laughing.

“ _Your_ Jon?” is all he says, and Damian falters for a moment then flushes, colour blooming high in his cheeks. Rao, he’s just so _pretty_. Jon can’t believe it took him this long to realise that, even though he did sort of have a hero crush on Damian back before… well, _everything_.

“You know what I mean,” Damian snaps, jaw tight. “Don’t deliberately twist the meaning of my words for your own benefit.” And then he tries to hide the way he shivers, and Jon remembers that he’s only in thin bedclothes, that he can get cold because he’s _all_ human. So he uses his superspeed to grab a hot drink for Damian, then flies back to the rooftop he left him on and offers it out to him.

He’s honestly surprised that Damian didn’t try to find a way to leave, but he supposes he shouldn’t be. After all, Damian _is_ a smart boy.

Damian looks at it, then up at Jon, then back at the cup of hot cocoa held in his hand. Jon’s surprised enough that he doesn’t even try to do anything when Damian smacks the cup out of his hand, just watching as the cup falls onto the floor and the lid pops off, spilling cocoa in a little puddle on the floor.

Jon bites back a sigh and forces back the blazing red in his vision when he sees Damian stiffen in front of him and then he adopts a fighting stance. “Damian, you’re being ungrateful,” he says softly, and Damian tenses up, an angry flush spreading across his face.

“ _Ungrateful?_ ” Damian splutters, hands curling into fists. “This is the _third_ time you’ve taken me from my own home, and the last time you did this, you – you _groped_ me!”

Jon smirks a little at that as he remembers pulling Damian’s back to his own chest and then sliding a hand down his pants. Damian had frozen as Jon’s fingers slipped past the band of his underwear to cup between his legs, and Jon knows he’d enjoyed it because Damian had let out a little moan before apparently coming to his senses and shoving Jon away just in time as his family had come to get him back.

“You know what I want though, D, and I know _you_ want it too,” Jon says softly, tilting his head to the side a little as he frowns at Damian. “So why aren’t you just giving it to me?”

Damian’s eyes widen and then narrow again into slits as he starts to shake. Jon can’t tell if it’s because he’s cold or because he’s mad. “I _don’t_ want it and I don’t want _you!_ ” He yells, then picks up the fallen cup off the floor and throws it at Jon.

It bounces off his chest, completely harmless, and Damian _knew_ that it wouldn’t do anything so why would he throw it? Maybe he’s panicking. If he’d just listen to Jon and do as he says, there’d be no need for him to panic. But as it is, Jon is getting tired of Damian’s constant refusals to join him, of his disobedience and him just choosing to _ignore_ Jon.

So he holds back less than he usually would when he puts his hand around Damian’s throat and picks him up, pressing his struggling body into a wall. Damian coughs and splutters, wriggling as he tries to pry Jon’s hand off, but he’s not strong enough to do it, turning bright red as he starts to gasp.

Jon watches as one of his hands slips into the pocket of his bed trousers, clearly looking for something but he’s not able to find it. “Looking for something?” Jon asks, grinning at him when he looks back up, eyes glazed over with fear as he reaches a shaking hand up and pats the little pocket sewn onto his top too, letting out a desperate wheeze when he doesn’t find anything.

“Let me guess,” Jon says calmly, making sure his grip around Damian’s throat doesn’t loosen. “Is it something _green?_ Something that _glows?_ ” Damian’s mouth parts as he tries to say something, but just croaks as Jon’s fingers tighten. “Could it be _Kryptonite_ , maybe?”

Damian blanches, all of the colour draining from his face as he stops struggling for a moment, completely limp as he stares up at Jon with wide eyes. “Oh, you thought I didn’t know about that, huh?” Jon chuckles, shaking his head. “It’s adorable that you thought you had a chance of fighting against me and _winning_ , but I got rid of it before I brought you here, Damian,” he whispers, leaning in close enough that their noses are almost touching.

And then he lets go and Damian falls to the ground, clutching at his throat as he coughs and gasps and wheezes, face and lips pale as he rubs at his chest in an attempt to ease his breathing. Jon leans down and offers him a hand up, but Damian smacks it away and uses the wall to push himself up until he’s just about standing on his own two feet, a little wobbly. He’s taken his hand away from his neck, and Jon can see the purplish bruises already forming a ring around his throat, almost like a collar – a _claim_ on him.

“ _Stay away_ from me,” Damian hisses, voice barely anything more than a croak as he pushes himself away from the wall and nearly falls over by doing so, and then, _foolishly_ swings his fist at Jon’s face. Jon is annoyed enough by Damian’s antics that he barely tones down his invulnerability, and there’s a _horrible_ crunching sound when Damian’s hand connects with Jon’s cheek, and then he’s sent flying backwards, tumbling onto the rooftop and just about rolling to a stop before the edge of it.

Jon slowly moves closer so that he doesn’t spook Damian, who carefully sits up and cradles his mangled, broken hand to his chest, blood on his elbows and one of his knees and the palm of his uninjured hand where he caught himself on the rooftop and managed to scrape some of the skin off. His broken hand looks like something out of a horror show, fingers and thumb bent back at what should be impossible angles, several shattered bones jutting out of his flesh as blood drips down his wrist and stains his skin.

There’s a hole in his trousers on top of his knee now, and his sleeves are messily ripped at the elbow, but Jon isn’t focused on that. He’s focusing on Damian’s _eyes_ , green and wide and anxious as he stares up at Jon, then scrabbles away from him and gets to his feet. Jon has superspeed, and yet even _he_ isn’t quick enough to do much more in reaction than shout Damian’s name as he looks to his left without moving his head, back up at Jon, and then runs to leap off the roof.

Jon doesn’t even realise that he’s moved until there’s suddenly a warm body in his arms and he’s floating in front of a window, seeing the reflection of himself holding Damian. He takes in a deep breath as he flies back up to the rooftop, trying to slow down his racing heart and the blood rushing almost _angrily_ through his body.

He doesn’t put Damian back down though – no, instead he drops him onto the floor and shoves him onto his back before crawling on top of him and pinning him down. “You know, D, I have missed how stubborn you are, but _this?_ You acting like a _brat_ and refusing to just _behave?_ ” Jon says, voice louder than usual, buttons flying all over the place as he rips Damian’s top open and tosses it aside. “I don’t like that one bit.”

Damian tries to push him off, but with only one working hand and well, a pretty _useless_ body in comparison, he’s no match for Jon, who roughly grabs his chin and forces Damian to look him in the eye. “Is the thought of being mine so _horrible_ that you would _literally_ throw yourself off a rooftop? Hm?” He asks, shaking Damian a little, nails digging into his skin. Damian doesn’t say anything, but his look of fear quickly turns into one of anger and then he spits at Jon, saliva landing on his cheek.

Jon should’ve known that he would do something like this, that Damian would _be_ like this, but it still infuriates him that Damian keeps denying him, so he moves back a little and rolls Damian over onto his stomach, then straddles the back of his thighs, one shaking hand pushing Damian’s head down so that his cheek presses into the gravel.

“I would’ve waited to do this until we were safe and happy somewhere, you know,” he breathes out, eyes burning as he uses his other hand to pick up Damian’s discarded top and stuffs it into his mouth as a makeshift gag before pinning Damian’s flailing hands down. “But you left me no choice.”

The top in Damian’s mouth isn’t enough to muffle his agonised screams of pain as Jon uses his heat vision to burn a line across the back of Damian’s shoulders, and then another line cutting down his back with a little flick at the end of it – a perfect _J_ on Damian’s perfect skin.

Damian’s shoulders are shaking but that only seems to hurt him more and he tries to calm himself down, blood dripping down his trembling back as Jon coos at him and dismantles his uniform enough that he can pull his flushed, hard cock out.

“It’s okay, Dami, you’ve already got _plenty_ of scars, this is just another one to add to your collection – and it’ll be the _most important_ one,” Jon tries to soothe as he tugs Damian’s trousers down his thighs and leaves them tangled up around his knees, not wanting to hurt him anymore than he has too by insisting on completely removing his clothing.

Jon pulls the fabric out from between Damian’s teeth and throws it to the side again, deciding that he’s okay with it if anyone hears him screaming now. Damian rasps out a sob, voice hoarse and cracking as he repeatedly cries out the words _no_ and _please_ and _stop_ , and Jon just hushes him as he nudges Damian’s thighs apart to get a good look at his little pink cunt, pressing a gentle kiss to Damian’s unblemished lower back before holding the base of his cock steady as he slowly pushes all the way into him.

Jon hears Damian’s breath catch in his throat as he carefully takes hold of his hips and leans over him, nuzzling into Damian’s tearstained cheek. He doesn’t let a breath out after that though, and after a few thrusts into him, Jon is a little worried that he’s stopped breathing, tuning into his heartbeat and breathing out a sigh of relief when it sounds in his head, light, rapid beats.

Damian doesn’t move or say anything, completely silent with tears rolling down his face as Jon tenderly kisses his hair and his temples and his flushed cheeks, the corner of his open mouth and the back of his neck and his shoulders as he rocks into him, hips stuttering against Damian’s ass as Jon spills inside his cunt.

Damian doesn’t make a sound as Jon tries to quickly clean him up as best as he can and then unhooks his cape and wraps it around Damian like a blanket, covering him from head to toe. He’d be worried about Damian just standing there and letting him do it with an almost blank look on his face, but he’s too happy that Damian has finally seen the light and agreed to come and join him, that Damian lets Jon pick him up and buries his head in Jon’s chest as he flies them both over the rooftops, tears dampening the material of his uniform.


End file.
